


Marked By Fate

by ShamelessPeterPan (PiscesDragon)



Category: Chinese Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fate & Destiny, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, M/M, Real Life with a Twist, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26717236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesDragon/pseuds/ShamelessPeterPan
Summary: Xiao Zhan is nearly six years old when his soul mark finally turns up. At first, he thinks nothing of the small, pale pink line on the underside of his forearm. It looks like a scratch, and though he doesn’t remember it, Xiao Zhan assumes their new kitten must have nicked him with her claws.The line is so insignificant that he forgets about it completely until weeks later after a bath he notices it is still there. He runs his hand over the pink mark, thinking about the black characters in the same spot on each of his parents’ arms. He wonders if there is more to it than a scar that just won’t heal.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean
Comments: 80
Kudos: 539





	Marked By Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Aja for [this tweet](https://twitter.com/yilingwow/status/1303174430638706688?s=20) that inspired the idea for this story!
> 
> Also HUGE thanks to OverthinkingThis for beta reading this so thoroughly and being a major help with it!
> 
> This is the longest one-shot I've ever written, and it only took me a couple of weeks from start to finish (which is FAST for me)... It feels like it just poured out of me :D I hope people enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Quick notes: There are a few Chinese words used -- for those that don't know "baobao" means baby, used as a term of endearment. For the most part, the meaning of any others can probably be inferred. I also don't use WeChat or live in China, so apologies for any general knowledge errors.

Xiao Zhan is nearly six years old when his soul mark finally turns up. At first, he thinks nothing of the small, pale pink line on the underside of his forearm. It looks like a scratch, and though he doesn’t remember it, Xiao Zhan assumes their new kitten must have nicked him with her claws. The line is so insignificant that he forgets about it completely until weeks later after a bath he notices it is still there.

He runs his hand over the pink mark, thinking about the black ones in the same spot on each of his parents’ arms. He wonders if there is more to it than a scar that just won’t heal.

“Mama!” Xiao Zhan calls out toward the kitchen after he puts on his pajamas. He wanders into the room to see his mother cleaning up the dishes from their dinner earlier. He prompts her again to get her attention, not wanting to interrupt and draw her temper, “Mama.”

“Mnn?” She barely looks up from the dishes she’s scrubbing, but it seems safe enough to proceed on his task. A little line on his skin wasn’t worth a swat to his butt for bothering her, that was for sure.

“Mama, there’s a mark on my arm,” he says, and waits to see how she will respond. When she doesn’t seem interested, he adds, “It won’t go away.”

“ZhanZhan, what are you talking about? It won’t go away, what nonsense!” she says, becoming aggravated. She looks up from the sink to glance over at him — and freezes in place when she notices the spot on his arm he’s rubbing absentmindedly.

“ZhanZhan!” she says sharply, the same tone she uses when scolding him for doing something wrong. He flinches but holds steady, keeping his eyes on hers the way his father does when he knows he’s right about something.

Her hands fly out of the sink, drops of water flinging onto the cabinets and floor. Xiao Zhan can’t help but think if  _ he _ threw water around the kitchen like that, she would make his backside burn like a chili.

She doesn’t even bother to grab a towel for herself as she rushes toward him, grasping his arm with slippery fingers. They are rough and pruny from the dishwater against his skin as she finds the pink mark and runs one back and forth across it. The sensation tickles, but she seems so concerned, Xiao Zhan dares not complain.

“This?” she asks, then looks up to his face to see him nod. Her eyes dart back to the simple line, then she holds her own arm out next to his. The black character of his father’s given name seems to glow against her tan skin. “How long has it been there?”

Xiao Zhan is quiet for a moment until her eyes meet his and she draws the words out of him. “I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?” His mother’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I thought it was nothing, just a scratch,” he explains. “It’s been there for… maybe a month?”

“A month!” she exclaims, dropping his arm and walking over to the table. She drops into one of the chairs as if the entire conversation had worn her out. “A month… And I’d worried you’d never even get one!”

“Mama, what does it mean?” he asks. Suddenly, the little pink mark seems to be incredibly important.

“It’s your soul mark, ZhanZhan,” she says. “It must be  _ yi. _ A pity it’s not something less plain. But you have one! That’s all that matters.”

“So it’s a name?” he asks, taking her hand to flip it up so he could look again at the character printed on her skin. Her smile is so bright it’s nearly blinding as she nods, and Xiao Zhan already appreciates the person just for making his mother so happy. “What kind of name is  _ Yi?” _

He knows no one at school with that name.

“Well, it’s only one character, not much to go on,” she says. “Some people have more to their name, but only one ever shows up. Your soulmate was probably born with hers, the way I was!”

“Someone has  _ my _ name on them, too?” He asks in shock. He knew his parents' marks well, since he’d seen them from the time he was very small. Yet the thought that someone out in the world could have his  _ zhan _ marked in pink on their skin was more than his six year old mind could process.

“Of course, that’s how it works!” his mother says, patting him on the head lovingly. “I knew we should have named you Zan instead. It’s a much prettier word for a girl to show off. But no, your father was so worried  _ you _ wouldn’t be able to write it…”

She continues to chatter, talking about how excited his father will be when he gets home and hears the news. But Xiao Zhan’s mind wanders, focusing on the  _ Yi _ that suddenly seemed like the most important feature on his small body.

“How will I find them?” Xiao Zhan asks as the question occurs to him. So many people in their country had the same or similar names. It seemed impossible that he would ever find this  _ one _ person in a billion.

“Oh, baobao, fate finds a way!” his mother says with a laugh. “But oh! We must make a note. Let’s find the book!”

His mother was a very superstitious person, and at some point when she was young, she’d been to a fortune teller who advised her to keep a record of “the important things in life,” as if the characters written on paper would prevent a disaster from befalling her. She’d always kept a small notebook since that time, and since the time she’d married, every time she filled one, his father would bring her a new one. Xiao Zhan could remember just last year, when his father had brought home a small leather-bound book and presented it to his mother as if it was gold. She’d taken it into her hands like a treasure, running her hand over the fine red cover, and then kissed his father, which Xiao Zhan thought was gross.

Now, he follows her into the living room, watching as she pulls out the red book from the desk with lots of papers that he’s never allowed to touch. She turns to a blank page and holds the pen ready.

“You said it’s been a month?” Xiao Zhan nods in the affirmative. She says solemnly, “This is very important, ZhanZhan. I’m writing it in the book so we can’t forget, but you also need to remember, ok? August 1997. That will be your soulmate’s birthday.”

Xiao Zhan commits it to memory, tucking it away in his brain along with the other things his parents had told him was important, like his address and phone number. But he doesn’t worry about it very long — his father is clear that he has a very long time before he needs to worry about this “Yi.” And what’s most important now is that he does well in school and makes his family proud, so he can become the kind of successful person his soulmate will be happy to be with.

一 战  一 战  一 战  一 战

Xiao Zhan is almost ten years old the first time a bruise that’s not his own appears on his arm. He thinks nothing of the pale pink splotch, until a few more show up, often around his knees. It doesn’t hurt, just a dull ache when he presses on it, and after a day or two, they disappear. The spots are the same color as the line of his soul mark, and after a while, Xiao Zhan finally figures out the connection.

His soulmate must get hurt — a lot.

One day at school, Xiao Zhan is accidentally hit in the head with a wooden bat during a physical activity game. He gets dizzy and sick to his stomach, and though he wants to close his eyes and sleep, the teacher in charge of caring for his injury won’t allow it. She says he probably has a concussion, and after calling his mother to come get him, she talks to him and shakes him to keep him from drifting off.

When his mother appears, after looking him over to ensure there’s no permanent damage, she jokes to the teacher about how there’s a poor girl somewhere in China who’s fainted for no reason and probably puzzled her poor parents.

It had never occurred to Xiao Zhan that the experience with injuries probably works both ways with soulmates. His head begins to hurt not just from the lump forming above his forehead but also from the guilt of what he’s unintentionally done.

From that day on, he sets out to make sure he protects himself. The last thing he wants to do is bring more pain to his soulmate, who he is sure already suffers from many injuries. The phantom pink bruises continue to appear, sometimes less often and sometimes more, but only really disappear for long stretches during the winter months.

Xiao Zhan avoids sports (not a hardship considering he was never very good at them anyway) and focuses on solitary pursuits — his art.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

At six years old, Yibo’s mother tries to get him to settle down, to learn to focus his energy on something that doesn’t require running, jumping, or climbing. She sighs at him about the constant rainbow of bruises that cover his pale skin on a daily basis. But he is a rough and tumble child, unafraid of falling if it means he can try something new, and none of her nagging or corrections can slow him down. 

His need to be in constant motion often gets him into trouble at school, and his mother desperately wants him to be able to sit quietly and learn like the other children. His teacher suggests that Yibo shows more interest in art than many other subjects, so it could be a good outlet to begin with.

So his mother enrolls him in an art class twice a week after school, and the colorful paints and large blank stretches of white canvas immediately catch his eye. He tries painting and sketching, and even seems to have a particular talent for working with clay, but while he enjoys looking at the work of others, Yibo doesn’t find the process to be much fun for himself. It is tedious work, requiring delicate fine motor skills that his clumsy hands can’t seem to manage, and though Yibo is sure that he  _ could _ become a talented artist if he set his mind to it, the desire is just not there.

His art classes continue for a few years, and as Yibo becomes bored or frustrated with one artistic form, his teacher introduces him to another. Since his penmanship at school is a constant struggle, she teaches him calligraphy to practice his strokes. His characters finally become legible, and with that accomplishment, he begs his mother to let him try something else.

Art is just not for him.

One day while watching a variety show on television after school, Yibo sees an energetic man with wild, colorful hair singing and playing a guitar. His name is Da Zhangwei, and he bounces around the stage as if it’s impossible for him to stand still.

He feels like a kindred spirit.

Yibo thinks that if  _ he _ can learn the guitar, maybe one day he could run all over a stage, too. It might be fun to have people screaming his name and cheering for him the way they do for this man on the TV. To draw positive attention to himself, instead of people noticing him for being quiet and odd or because his soul mark was “special.”

It had become a point of attack from the kids who didn’t like him, and after a week of ridicule from the other students in his class, Yibo finally asks his parents about it.

“Momma, why do people make fun of my mark?” Yibo asks as they are finishing dinner. He rubs at the pink  _ zhan  _ with a finger. He’s always thought it was cool, having the word for battle on his arm. It made him feel strong and invincible — like he could do anything.

“Who’s making fun of your mark?” his mother asks, alert and defensive. She is tough sometimes, but she loves him and is always ready to defend him at a moment’s notice.

“The kids at school,” Yibo explains. “They said it’s a boy name, and it’s weird.”

His mother reaches over to run her hand over his head, soothing him the way he does with his pet rabbit. “It is a boy’s name. But it’s  _ not  _ weird.”

Her soft smile and reassuring voice eases the tension that had twisted up inside of him at the teasing from his peers. Still, he can’t help but press the arguments that have been thrown at him like knives, and mumbles, “None of the other boys have a boy’s name…”

“Oh, really?” His dad pipes up from across the table, his eyebrow lifted in interest. “Do they know that for sure? There are  _ many  _ names that could be for either a boy or a girl, Yibo.”

“Exactly!” his mother exclaims. “There’s rarely a way to know from just one character. Your own  _ Yi _ could just as easily be found in a girl’s name, BoBao. You can’t listen to these children.”

“But, I know that my soulmate will be a boy, right?” Yibo asks quietly.

“ _Zhan_ is certainly not a name typically given to a girl,” his father answers.

Yibo’s large eyes stare at his mother. “That’s strange… right? For two boys to be soulmates?”

He knows it isn’t completely impossible — he’s been in the world long enough to see and observe many couples, and he knows there are different types. But he rarely sees two boys, or two girls, who are soulmates. There are only a few couples like that in his town.

It makes him feel  _ different. _

“It is  _ not _ strange, Yibo. China is a big place — what these kids think is normal here might be completely different somewhere else!” his mother says. Her hand slides from his hair to cup the side of his face. “It just makes you special. Think about what kind of soulmate you must have, to have such a powerful name! You are a special boy, and you just need someone else special to match. That’s all.”

She kisses his cheek and sits back in her chair, glancing at his father in that way that Yibo never understands.

“Don’t let those children bully you, son,” his father says with a serious look. “The world is wide and the river is long. No one knows what life will bring, but you are lucky — you know you will have someone to share it with.”

Yibo nods solemnly, knowing that his father expects him to shoulder this burden alone. His mark is not going anywhere, nor would he want it to. There are a few kids at school who don’t even have one, and they are pitied and often shunned by the other students.

Besides, Yibo likes his soul mark, and he likes boys much better, anyway. He couldn’t imagine being stuck spending the rest of his life with a  _ girl. _

Gross.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

At fourteen, Xiao Zhan develops a passion for music. One of his friends has a guitar, and he tries to teach Xiao Zhan how to play it. Unfortunately, the coordination required to play the chords just right doesn’t come easily to him. Xiao Zhan struggles through for a few months, determined to find a way to bring to life the phantom melodies he occasionally hears in his head. Eventually, he is forced to admit that the guitar is just too frustrating.

Singing, however, comes as naturally to Xiao Zhan as breathing. It is something he’s always enjoyed, but now when he sings, the music seems to flood his heart with happiness. Since his voice has finally stopped shifting and cracking, it’s settled back into a functional state. His natural tone may be lower, but his range is still surprisingly good, if his ability to sing along to his favorite k-pop groups is any indication. On the videos he records for fun, there’s a richer quality to his voice that wasn’t there before. His friends encourage him to join the school choir group, and aside from his art classes, the choir gatherings are the best part of Xiao Zhan’s week.

When he sings, he feels connected to something bigger — something out in the world, just out of reach. It’s as if he has an invisible string flowing out of him, and when he sings, the music travels along it like a telephone line.

Sometimes, when he’s alone in his room in the quiet, the music comes back to him along the string. It’s similar, but different, with a lower tone and a quicker cadence. There’s a rough quality to it that sends a buzz through him, like a fuzzy blanket is rubbing against the inside of his skin.

It’s electrifying and a little scary, but somehow soothing at the same time. Xiao Zhan can’t help but wonder where the invisible string comes from and how it works.

But mostly, he wonders what’s at the other end.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

Guitar and an interest in music naturally leads Yibo into dance. By the age of ten, he’s taking classes in classical form and contemporary dance.

Yibo likes to dance. It’s freeing to let himself get lost in the music, letting his body move and flow to the beat. And he’s good at it. His instructor constantly comments on his “natural grace,” which often makes the other children in his class jealous.

While memorizing words and idioms and mathematical formulas in school is hard, Yibo finds that remembering dance routines is extremely easy for him. After just a few repetitions of the movements, he’s able to do them with little assistance. Unlike at school, where his desk seems to be constantly moved next to another student or the teacher to provide extra help, in dance classes, Yibo is the one assisting others. 

The more the teachers dote on his abilities, the more his confidence in himself grows. Though he’s not crazy about the ballet components of traditional dancing, Yibo doesn’t mind the more upbeat jazz music and energetic movements of his contemporary dance class. It’s a rush, on the days they work hard on a routine for an upcoming performance, with the adrenaline racing through his veins and making him feel like he could fly.

But one day, that feeling causes him to crash like a plane falling from the sky.

They’ve barely begun to get through their warm-up exercises and free-form dance segment before Yibo begins to fall apart. He’s suddenly flushed and has trouble breathing during the easiest part of their practice, which is totally unlike him. Though he’s had times during classes in the past where he’s felt overwhelmed and needed a break, usually after some water and a few minutes rest he’d be fine.

Today, he faints.

He wakes as he is being rushed to the doctor, where they tell his parents that his heart rate isn’t normal. Yibo’s not surprised by the news — he can feel it fluttering in his chest occasionally, like his heart has grown butterfly wings and is trying to fly its way out.

After a night in the hospital and what feels like a thousand tests, the doctors say he has something called “myocarditis.” It’s an inflammation of his heart, and it’s causing his heartbeat to go haywire. If they don’t get it under control, Yibo could have long-term side effects.

The look of worry and fear in his parents eyes make him wonder if it’s not a lot more serious than the adults are telling him.

He’s had trouble with his stomach for a few years and has to watch what he eats to avoid getting sick. The doctors think there could be a connection, that the inflammation and issues from his heart may actually be causing the problems in his digestive system.

_ Maybe they can just fix all of me while I’m here,  _ Yibo thinks. If his father’s car can be taken in for repairs when it breaks, can’t doctors just do the same for his body? It seems simple enough in his mind.

His mother tells him there’s no reason to be concerned, but that after he leaves the hospital in a few days, Yibo will not be able to do any strenuous physical activity for quite a while. That, he knows, is going to be a challenge for him, but if that’s what it takes to make his body work properly again, he’s really got no choice.

The one positive to being in the hospital and hooked up to an IV is that Yibo gets to miss school  _ and _ watch as much TV as he wants. As he flips through the channels trying to find something to watch, his interest lands on some type of hip hop dance competition.

He’s seen people doing dances like these in music videos, but this seems like an entirely different level. It’s like a game, or a fight, but the contestants are dancing instead of throwing kicks or punches. Yibo is enthralled by the way the dancers move and twist their bodies, contorting in perfect sync with the beat of the music. Instinctively, his body twitches along with their jerky movements, imagining that he’s doing the routine with them.

When he’s better, when he can dance again,  _ that _ is the type of dancing Yibo wants to do.

In the meantime, he will listen to his mother and do what he’s told. After all, at least staying inside and not running around means he will still be able to play with his Legos. For some reason, building meticulous sets and getting things to fit “just so” in an ordered symmetry brings Yibo an internal satisfaction that he just can’t understand. He gets the same joy out of keeping his room orderly and his clothing put away neatly in his closet, which has the added bonus of keeping his mother very happy, so it must not be a bad thing.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

Xiao Zhan is sixteen, and he thinks he’s going to die.

He’s still at school, working on the painting he’s doing for his semester art project, which is due in just a few weeks. Everything is fine, until suddenly, it’s  _ not. _

His heart flutters in his chest, he can’t catch his breath, and he gets so lightheaded he thinks he might pass out. The paintbrush drops from his hand. As Xiao Zhan tries to right himself on his stool, he reaches out to catch his balance, gripping the top of the canvas he’d been working on. The paint smears against his palm, and his fingers slide down the length of the wet fabric as he falls sideways to the floor, gasping for air.

Luckily, he isn’t alone — his friend LiLi had stayed late to work on her pottery, and at the sound of Xiao Zhan’s strangled cry, she comes running. As Xiao Zhan grips his chest and wonders if he’s having a heart attack, LiLi calls the emergency line for help.

Before the medics arrive, the episode is over. Xiao Zhan can breathe normally, and his heart has slowed to a steady pace. In fact, if not for the ache in his side from falling to the hard concrete floor and the concerned expression on LiLi’s face, Xiao Zhan might think the whole thing was a dream.

As a precaution, the medics insist on taking him to the hospital to run tests and make sure nothing serious is wrong. He calls his parents from the ambulance, and they meet him at the hospital looking more stressed and concerned than Xiao Zhan had ever seen before.

Their worry eases hours later when the doctors assure them Xiao Zhan is fine. In fact, he has a clean bill of health. They tell his parents he is nothing more than a perfectly healthy teenage boy, and his experience was most likely a side effect of his soul bond.

It’s rare, they say, but sometimes the souls are so closely linked, one can feel when the other suffers. Xiao Zhan immediately looks for the tiny mark on his arm for assurance.

He lets out a relieved breath — it’s still there. His soulmate is ok. Xiao Zhan hopes that wherever they are, they are getting the treatment they need for whatever it is that’s wrong. It would be horrible to lose his soulmate, to never meet his match, but right now he just hopes he never has to go through anything like  _ that _ ever again.

A few days later when he returns to school, Xiao Zhan finds the painting he’d been working on. The teacher had set it off to the side, unsure of what to do with it.

What had started as a scenic view of the beach and the ocean now have large streaks crawling through the middle of the painting, from the top of the canvas to the bottom. The boy walking along the beach is almost smudged out, disappearing into the wavy edges of the paint.

There is not enough time left in the semester for him to start over.

Xiao Zhan works around the damage in the middle, completing the rest of the landscape in sharp contrast to the clawed marks that mar it. He titles it “Life Happens,” calling it a fusion of traditional and impressionist artwork.

His teacher, aware of the health scare and what happened to Xiao Zhan, declares him clever and gives him a passing grade on the work.

“Like life, our art does not always turn out the way we plan it, Xiao Zhan,” the teacher says. “But that doesn’t make it any less meaningful or beautiful.”

It is a lesson Xiao Zhan would never forget.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

At eleven, Yibo discovers that he  _ loves _ to dance.

With his health issues under control, he’s finally been allowed to be active again. He has gotten pretty good at shooting around a basketball, one of the few things on the short list of activities he’s been allowed (as long as he didn’t run), but his mother worries that playing on a team would be too strenuous. Instead, she concedes that he can go back to the dance studio, as long as he doesn’t overdo it.

Yibo has missed the success he had at dancing, but the previous style he was doing now holds little appeal. He wants to try something new. He wants to dance like the people in the videos he watches, to be able to dance along with the rap music he likes listening to every day.

His parents are not at all keen on his new interest. They tell him they don’t want him doing hip hop dance — it’s not socially acceptable or appropriate, and they worry about what other people might think.

“Just let him try it!” Yibo’s grandmother argues as she reaches out to pat his arm and give him a loving smile. “The boy’s got to do something or he’ll go crazy. You want him to dance, he wants to dance. Let him dance!”

The older woman, as is often the case when it comes to Yibo’s hobbies and interests, is his savior. Neither of his parents can bring themselves to overrule her, so with  _ Nainai _ in his corner, Yibo is given permission to sign up for the urban dance class. His mother’s only requirement is that he also continue with learning traditional dance, because she feels it is more likely to give him opportunities in the future. It’s a compromise Yibo doesn’t mind, and it is well worth it.

Hip hop is a whole new world of dance.

His foundation in the other forms make much of it even easier, but still, Yibo has a lot to learn. Luckily, he catches on quickly, and before long he’s moved up to work with the more advanced class. It’s a lot more difficult than anything he’s done before, but Yibo revels in the challenge. The music they dance to is modern, often American, and always fun, and so the classes hardly seem like work.

The instructors tell his mother that Yibo is a prodigy, that his potential lies far outside what they are capable of teaching him in Luoyang. And suddenly, his parents have no more complaints about his choice of dance style.

Yibo finds himself practicing moves and tricks at home, perfecting his own style and copying characteristic spins and steps from English videos of popular artists and legends like Michael Jackson. There’s a freedom in letting his body go, in moving to the music in whatever way he wants to, without worrying about his form falling a centimeter out of line. Where he moved his body with the music before, now the sound flows  _ through _ him, as if using him as a conduit to come to life.

There are times when he dances that everything around Yibo disappears. It’s just him and the music, and sometimes there is a soft voice in his head singing along. It’s almost magical, with the pulse of the music pulling him along without thought, and no matter how exhausted Yibo becomes, he doesn’t want to have to stop.

His hard work and natural skill pay off, and when he is thirteen, Yibo competes in a dance competition and draws the eye of a major entertainment company. It’s an amazing opportunity for him to pursue dancing as a career, and his parents are incredibly proud and supportive. Before long he signs a deal, hugs his family goodbye, and moves to South Korea to start the arduous process of training to become an idol.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

By the time he is twenty, Xiao Zhan is convinced that his soulmate has a horrible home life. He’s got bruises all over his arms and legs, and a constant phantom ache in his muscles. There are days that he hurts so badly with sympathy pains that he can barely move, yet he drags himself to class. If his “Yi” is suffering, it will be even more important that he has a good job and can provide for them.

He’d hoped he would find his soulmate in college. He heard that happened quite often now. There were even some apps that could help people find their soulmate, but Xiao Zhan never bothered with them. His mark was such a common name, it was silly to think the internet would be much help.

Better to do as his mother says and place his trust in fate. After all, the universe would not see fit to give him a mark, if it didn’t intend to lead him in the right direction.

In the meantime, Xiao Zhan enjoys college life. His love of music had never diminished, and he joins the men’s choir so he can continue to do what he loves. University is a great place for Xiao Zhan — he’s well liked by his peers, participates in a number of different organizations, and enjoys quite a bit of attention.

Like many others who have yet to meet their soulmate, Xiao Zhan isn’t shy about dating and experimenting with sex. It is fun, and when everyone has a mark on their arm that means they are ultimately destined for someone else, there’s little demand for serious commitment.

While there are those people who felt it was a prime opportunity to get their fill of others before they become shackled to a soulmate, Xiao Zhan takes a more casual attitude. He dates people he is interested in getting to know as a person, and if it leads to more, then he’s open to it. He understands that his “Yi” could quite possibly be either a girl OR a boy, which is not a problem at all for Xiao Zhan. He’s discovered he has a fair amount of interest in both, and it seems that gaining some experience would only help him in the long run.

He knows his soulmate is significantly younger than he is, so there is still plenty of time for Xiao Zhan to be a free and adventurous youth. He would get an education and be the dutiful son his parents expected — but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a good time in the process.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

When Wang Yibo is eighteen years old, he learns that the ups and downs in life become much more difficult as you get older. And that even when you get lucky, it doesn’t always last.

He’d spent the last five years in Korea, and it had been the most difficult and amazing experience of his life. He had a few years of strenuous idol training — honing his dancing skills, learning to rap and sing, and being instructed on the other minutiae of idol performance expectations (all while still taking classes and learning a second - and third! - language). Luckily, within the first year he was paired up with a group of other boys, and since he was the youngest member, they all made it a point to look out for Yibo.

Yibo thought being in a boy band was great — he’d essentially been handed a new set of friends, and after the initial getting to know you stage was over, Yibo quickly accepted all of them as his brothers. Their varied age range and personalities all seemed to make it easy for them to get along. 

Not that they didn’t fight occasionally. It was natural for people who spent so much time together to wear on each other’s patience from time to time. 

He and Seungyoun developed a particularly complex relationship. They shared the exact same birthday, only one year apart, and the group quickly christened them “the Leo twins.” Being so close in age and interests, it was easy for the two of them to become more attached to each other. Seungyoun became Yibo’s best friend, the one person he confided in most. He was Yibo’s roommate, his friend, his dance partner and bandmate. In no time, Yibo felt like they were inseparable.

But like all relationships, their friendship wasn’t perfect. They would often get into fights about things or annoy each other to the point that a room change was necessary. He loved Seungyoun, but sometimes being his friend was  _ hard. _ Yibo couldn’t imagine being closer to someone than he is with his best friend, and it made him worry he would have the same problems with his soulmate when he got older.

“You two are so much alike, Yibo,” Yixuan explained in a consoling voice as they moved his things into Yixuan’s room. He had hugged Yibo and dried his tears, being the best gege Yibo could ever ask for. “A couple of Leos will never have any balance together. You’ve got too much of the same energy! That’s a great thing for our group, but it just means you also need to spend some time away from each other once in a while.”

Yibo had nodded and looked around the room at his new shared space. Noticing the beds moved apart to each side of the room, he asked quietly, “Xuan-ge? Can we… Can we move the beds together?”

“Why?” Yixuan asked, somewhat surprised. He’d known Yibo and Seungyoun had often piled together like puppies in their beds, but he obviously hadn’t expected Yibo to request the same with him.

Yibo’s voice was very small and timid, an unusual state after years spent building their bond. “I get scared sometimes… if there’s nobody near me. I don’t… I don’t like sleeping alone.”

Yixuan’s hand reached over to tousle the younger boy’s now blond head. “It’s fine, BoBo. Whatever you need.”

The man’s arms wrapping around to swamp his smaller frame in a tight hug filled Yibo with warmth and comfort. Yixuan was a good gege — he could always trust him to know what was best and be honest with him.

Shortly after that, their lives become a whirlwind. The group is given an official name by their management company and recording songs to be released. The day finally comes that Yibo’s been preparing for over the last three years, and UNIQ debuts as a Chinese-Korean group.

Everything goes amazingly well for a few years — they make music together, hold concerts, travel, do appearances, and build their popularity not only in each of their home countries but around the world as well. Their success and upward trajectory all come to a screeching halt not long after Yibo turns eighteen.

With political tensions rising between China and South Korea, the management team decides it is a good time for some of the UNIQ members to start branching out into other projects. It never hurts to get more exposure and build their audience, and if things get worse, at least their talent will have other options.

Yibo is not thrilled about the sudden shift, but it’s well outside of his control. He’s forced to leave his new family and sent home to China to try out for a host position that’s being filled on a well known variety show.  _ Tian Tian Xiang Shang _ has been around for a while and has a solid reputation. Yibo’s manager makes clear to him that if UNIQ can’t continue to work together, this job would be an excellent spot for him to land in. They are looking for a young man that will attract a younger audience, so all of the others competing for the job are around his age, and most of them have a similar background and experience as well.

The problem is that Wang Yibo is perhaps the last teen idol with any business doing a hosting gig. Conversing with people or about himself is difficult enough during interviews with his band mates, but without one of his geges there to help, Yibo is at a loss. He worries he’s going to completely blow the audition from the start.

But like everything else in life, Yibo puts in his best effort. He can’t bring himself to talk and chat the way some of the other boys can, so he throws himself into showing off his physical skills and being willing to do any activity they throw at him. He fights his shyness and plays to his strengths, and hopes that even if he doesn’t get  _ this _ job, maybe his appearances on the show will lead to something else.

The hosts must see some sort of potential in Yibo, because when the competition comes to a close, he’s proudly declared their new didi. Yibo is somewhat shocked, but he knows enough to be grateful. None of his band mates have had much luck finding other opportunities, and he’s somehow stumbled into a regular contracted position.

Yibo’s new brothers are kind and take him under their wings, showing him the ropes of being a variety show host. It’s definitely a challenge, and pushes Yibo farther out of his comfort zone than he’d ever thought possible. Not only is he once again the youngest, but his geges are now all  _ far _ from their teenage years, some with children of their own. His mentor on the show, Da Zhangwei, is fun and full of energy, just as he was years ago when Yibo had first seen him on TV.

He never could have dreamed he’d be working side by side with the same man one day, and it strikes him that he’s actually accomplished his childhood dream — and then some. His new job as a variety show host provides a lot of perks, like traveling to new places and getting to try different foods and activities. It also provides Yibo with the opportunity to meet a large number of different people. And as he approaches the end of his first year on the job with no sign of a return to Korea on the horizon, Yibo begins to pay a little more attention to the pale pink mark on his arm — and a lot more attention to the names of the guests on his call sheets.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

At twenty-five, Xiao Zhan’s soul mark turns black, which means he’s met his soulmate.

The only problem is, Xiao Zhan has  _ no idea _ who that person is.

After college, Xiao Zhan did the responsible thing: he got an office job as a graphic designer. It paid well, his parents were proud, and the design firm he’d started with his friends in college was even bringing in a decent amount of side business.

But Xiao Zhan was miserable. He felt like just another cog in the wheel at work, a nobody who could be just as easily thrown out the door as he could be promoted. And the stress was getting to him.

He was also getting older, watching his friends find their soulmates and begin to settle down, and he still had no one. He knew his future partner was still just a teenager, and he had to be patient. It could still be many years before they found each other.

The thought of spending those years stuck at a desk, making thousands of tedious changes to logos and artwork for ungrateful clients, crushed him. He couldn’t shake the haunting feeling that he would never be able to find happiness or his soulmate while trapped in that windowless office. He missed the attention he had gotten in college, the feeling of being on stage, the way it felt to belt out a song and hear people appreciate it.

The voice in his head telling him to take a new path got louder and louder until one day, a friend sent him the talent notice for a new vocal reality show.

“You’d be perfect for this!” His friend screamed in the WeChat message.

It’s a risk — a big one — to quit his job and throw himself sideways into a completely new line of work. There were  _ so _ many unknowns. Yet his heart was telling him to go for it. Xiao Zhan triple checked the level of his savings account and took the leap.

The competitive idol show had been exhilarating, exhausting, demanding, rewarding, and turned his entire world upside down. After landing a spot in the group, their appearances and events had taken him to so many new places, that sometimes thinking about it could make his head spin.

Now, as he rubs the inky mark on his forearm, he realizes that this crazy new life has thrown his soulmate into his path. But when or where that happened, he couldn’t even begin to guess.

Just in that week, Xiao Zhan has come into contact with so many people. Between travel, show appearances, and hotels, there’s an incalculable number of staff and fans he’s interacted with. In truth, nearly  _ anyone _ could be the “Yi” on his arm. He’s not even sure  _ where _ he met them. His vocal group has been from Shanghai to Changsha to Beijing in the last week, and if he remembers correctly, they’d even filmed something in a flower field in some town he could no longer name.

Although, there  _ had  _ been a boy who’d caught his eye.

Force of habit over the last few years caused Xiao Zhan to take mental note of anyone — man or woman — with a  _ yi _ in their name. But if he was being honest with himself, he’d noticed Wang Yibo before he even knew what he was called.

He was so  _ cute. _ With his soft brown hair, pale skin, and bright eyes, Xiao Zhan’s gaze had been drawn to the boy like a magnet. He was thin, like every other idol Xiao Zhan strived to emulate, but his athletic build carried a hidden strength that emerged when he danced.

And wow, that boy could  _ dance. _

Xiao Zhan had been blown away at the way his body moved, all grace and power, smooth lines and sharp edges. He had been following boy bands for most of his life, was in one now with some of the best dancers he’d ever seen — and none of them could hold a candle to Wang Yibo’s talent.

They hadn’t even really spoken during Xiao Zhan’s appearance on the variety show, besides the cursory greeting and a few words here and there. The boy was quiet, respectful to all the elders around him, but his smile was a luminous thing that made people want to draw it out of him at every opportunity.

It is two days after his band’s appearance on Wang Yibo’s show that Xiao Zhan notices his soul mark had changed.

He takes an entire day to berate himself with logic, thinking about how long it had been since he’s paid the mark any mind, and forcing his thoughts to reason out the sheer number of other people he’d met or interacted with whose name might begin with  _ yi. _

It just wasn’t possible that the most beautiful person he’d ever seen could be his soulmate. He couldn’t possibly be that lucky.

Another day passes and Xiao Zhan’s curiosity finally gets the better of him. He’s never forgotten that important date his mother had instructed him to sear into his brain at six years old. With a tremble in his fingers, and a traitorously hopeful heart, Xiao Zhan opens up the browser on his phone and searches for Wang Yibo’s biography.

The information he’s looking for is easy to find, in bold print at the top of the first page Xiao Zhan opens. His heart stops as shock and joy surge through him, followed quickly by a dose of fear that it’s just a coincidence.

August 5, 1997.

Wang Yibo was born around the same time as Xiao Zhan’s soulmate.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

At age nineteen, Yibo meets his soulmate.

It’s an average day of taping  _ Tian Tian Xiang Shang _ , with a standard mix of guests. According to today’s script outline, they would have a few women from various hotels around the country as well as a boy band containing an impressive nine members. He’s running late to the show, having come straight from the airport, and the stylist has him quickly changing and hurrying to hair and makeup. The hectic schedule of co-hosting a show while also filming a drama at a different location could be difficult, but there’s no way Yibo would ever consider giving up his regular gig at  _ TTXS. _ He’s only been there a short time, but he’s already come to love his talk show geges. They’ve adopted him like a little brother, and treat him as such, giving Yibo the sense of family that he’s been missing since leaving Korea and splitting up from his bandmates.

He rushes to the stage, quickly saying hello to the few people within range backstage before he and the other hosts make their entrance. Usually, Yibo would have had a chance to greet all of the guests properly before the show began, but his delayed arrival means he will be meeting most of them for the first time in front of the audience.

After doing their usual introduction and reading the ad placement, Yibo settles into what has become his normal spot next to Da Zhangwei at one side of the stage. He pays attention to the show, wanting to be prepared in case Han-ge cues him to participate, but has little interest until the vocal group is brought out to be introduced. A cursory scan of the line of young men gives Yibo the impression they are like most new idol groups. The majority are reasonably good looking, fit and obviously skilled, and eager to make a good impression on the show.

His eyes pause on one of the members near the end of the line, dressed in a pink jacket that sets off the flush of his cheeks. He’s taller than most of the others around him and boyishly handsome, with bright eyes and an angular face. His dark hair contrasts nicely with clear, pale skin. There’s just something about him that makes Yibo unable to look away.

Realizing he doesn’t know any of the members' names, Yibo forces his attention to the introductions. He examines the name tags they are wearing, but is only able to read the first few from where he is standing. Sadly, the interesting boy down the line is well out of range.

Yibo waits patiently, still listening carefully to the names of the other members, in case one of them might turn out to be important. And then the man Yibo had been trying not to stare at says his name with a brilliant smile, and Yibo swears his heart stops in his chest. While the boy was very cute before, the moment his smile lights up his face, Yibo is sure he is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

“Xiao Zhan,” he says, but all Yibo can hear is  _ Zhan _ and wonders how the character of his name is written. Hope springs like a waterspout in his chest.

The minute they all move to reposition for the next segment, Yibo draws near enough to see his name tag, and sure enough, his name matches the pink mark on Yibo’s arm. He rubs it self-consciously through the loose white sleeve that’s covering it.

Eventually they take a short break, and Yibo makes his way around to greet all of the guests and apologize for not doing it earlier. When he chats a little with the vocal group, he notices that Xiao Zhan seems shy as well, and though they say hello, the two of them talk very little to each other.

Still, Yibo’s eyes are drawn to the boy like a magnet through the rest of the taping. The urge to pull up his sleeve and check his arm is making his skin crawl, but there’s no opportunity. And with cameras and people everywhere, the last thing Yibo wants is to share either his extreme joy or overwhelming disappointment with a live audience.

Yet by the time they get their next short break, Yibo can’t stand the suspense any longer. He rushes off to the restroom to ensure some privacy and then slips off his white button down shirt.

The mark on his arm, which he knew for a fact had been pink the last time he’d glanced at it in the mirror immediately before the show, is now a rich black color. Yibo touches it gingerly, amazed that in just a few hours what he’d always considered to be a piece of himself could change so quickly.

Blood pounds in his ears, and for the first time in years Yibo worries his heart troubles have come back. He just knows his pulse is fluttering like a bird’s wings.

_ Xiao Zhan is his soulmate. _ He has to be — there is no other explanation, no other person on the set it could possibly be.

Yibo takes a few deep breaths, willing his body to calm down. He still has a job to do, a show to finish. With a glance at his watch, he realizes his time is up and he needs to get back. When he reaches the set, the crew is still waiting for Feng-ge to get back from an important phone call, so Yibo hangs off to the side near where the X-Nine boys have returned to their seats. He embraces the opportunity to observe his soulmate — his soulmate! — and watches as he jokes with the other members of his group.

Xiao Zhan is kind to the others, but playful and rowdy too, and seems to be well liked. Yibo can’t wait to learn everything about him.

It is mind-blowing that such a beautiful man is his. He wants to shout it to the whole audience, ‘Look at him! Look at that handsome man! He’s mine! He’s meant for  _ me!’  _ He knows it’s not the time or place, but the temptation to share the news with Xiao Zhan, to cement their bond in some way, is barely containable.

Yibo jerks out of his selfish thoughts as Xiao Zhan’s loud laughter abruptly rings out into the space. It’s a musical sound that sends an inexplicable warmth into Yibo’s chest.

“Haha, LeiLei! You’re only a teenager!” Xiao Zhan says, his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Just wait until you’re old like me!”

The other boys laugh, reassuring Xiao Zhan that he’s not really old, but Yibo’s breath catches in his throat.  _ He _ is also still a teenager, and will be for a few more months. Will that matter to Xiao Zhan? How old  _ is _ he? Would he tell Yibo he’s too young for him, even if they are soulmates?

Suddenly, the brief thoughts he’d had of confronting the truth right after the show spin into a maelstrom of doubts. Maybe rushing headfirst at his soulmate isn’t the best course of action. How  _ did _ people do this? Was there a “right” way to meet your soulmate? Yibo wishes he’d had the foresight to do a little more research on the matter.

Yibo gets through the rest of the show only due to practiced professionalism and sheer willpower. He can’t help being somewhat distracted, but he tries to reassure himself that Xiao Zhan isn’t going anywhere. They are meant to be, and he can certainly wait one more hour to figure out how to handle that.

Yibo does, however, take the opportunity to show off when he’s called into a dance battle with one of the other singers. He knows he is skilled, and he demonstrates it well, twisting and spinning his body to the beat of the music. He can’t help but to throw a little flourish at the end of his dance, pointing toward Xiao Zhan as he leaves the floor’s spotlight.

He hopes that he’s made an impression and Xiao Zhan has noticed him, too.

When the director calls it a wrap and filming has ended for the day, Yibo watches, slightly panicking as the guests all prepare to leave after the long day on set.

“Da-laoshi, I need to get Xiao Zhan’s WeChat,” Yibo says, turning to his closest and most trusted gege in his time of great need. “It’s really important. Can you do it?”

“Xiao Wang, what’s stopping you?” Da Zhangwei asks, giving Yibo a curious look. “He’s a friendly guy, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“It’s just… I barely talked with him. Not like you did,” Yibo explains. “I don’t want to make him feel weird.”

Da-laoshi’s expression says he’s doubtful that’s the whole story, but he takes pity on the younger man, and before leaving for the day, Yibo’s phone pings with the information he needs.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

About a week after X-Nine’s appearance on  _ Tian Tian Xiang Shang, _ Xiao Zhan gets a WeChat request, but it’s not exactly what he’d been expecting.

Instead, it’s the best thing he could have hoped for.

One of the hosts had asked a few of the group’s older members to be added to their WeChat, and they’d all jumped at the chance. Networking was half the battle in the entertainment business, and it never hurt to have contact with someone who had a foot in both the music and television circles. But the message Xiao Zhan gets is from someone else.

_ Wang Yibo _ has sent him a friend request.

He feels like a teenager again, with his heart jumping in his chest like he’s getting a message from a cute classmate. Curiosity swirls through him, wondering what caused the young man to reach out. Is there some kind of connection between them that Xiao Zhan doesn’t know about? Why would Wang Yibo seek out  _ him _ of all people?

The wild thought that it might have something to do with his soul mark’s change in color sends a jolt of nervous excitement straight through him. His knees get weak, and he has to sit down before he can make his fingers cooperate enough to accept the request.

As Xiao Zhan responds to the initial message of greeting (“Hey, I hope you don’t mind, I got your WeChat from Da-laoshi”), he wonders again about the timing of Yibo’s birthday, the small line on his arm, and the new social media connection. He wonders even more about Yibo’s soul mark, assuming he even has one.

They send a few polite messages back and forth within the first few days, but Xiao Zhan just can’t figure out how to ask about the younger man’s soul mark. It seems much too personal, and strange, to do over WeChat. And he figures that if Yibo was contacting him for an important reason, he would bring it up sooner rather than later.

But all he gets from the boy are random messages and pictures. It seems that he really  _ did _ just want to befriend Xiao Zhan for some reason. Months go by, and they become casual WeChat acquaintances, with inconsistent communication and very little flow to their chats. They talk a little and get to know each other, but it is all very superficial — neither of them are very forthcoming with a person they don’t know well in real life.

Eventually, as the weather gets cooler and heads into fall, they both get busy and their communication slows to a trickle. Xiao Zhan still thinks about the mystery surrounding Wang Yibo, but as his schedule fills up, he has little time to worry about it.

Though they’ve texted occasionally, Xiao Zhan is doubtful there is more to their relationship than a networking connection to a peer in the same career field. After all, Wang Yibo has never even suggested they get together in person when they were both in Beijing, and Xiao Zhan couldn’t bring himself to be presumptuous enough to ask. Yibo is a much bigger celebrity than he is and had been the one to make their tenuous connection. Xiao Zhan wouldn’t want Yibo to think he’s taking advantage of that in order to further his own career.

If they are meant to know each other, to be friends, he has to believe that fate will find a way to throw them into each other’s path once again.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

It takes him multiple tries and a lot of pushing, but twenty year old Yibo lands a lead role opposite Xiao Zhan. They will finally be seeing each other in person again, and Yibo can’t wait to find out for sure if the man he has been attempting to befriend for nearly a year is really and truly his match.

In his heart, Yibo  _ knows  _ he is.

But he wants confirmation — and he wants Xiao Zhan to know it, too. He’s ready.

He’s  _ so  _ ready.

They had messaged off and on for months over the course of the last year. But Yibo could never find a way to bring up what he really wanted to ask, and Xiao Zhan seemed distant. Yibo struggled to communicate with people in his daily life, and while WeChat was easier in some ways, it was also hard to know what to say. When his schedule got busy and Xiao Zhan’s responses got shorter and he took days, then weeks, to respond, Yibo knew he had to do  _ something _ to make their schedules intersect again.

They were both looking for more acting roles, so it was just a matter of making sure they both landed parts in the same project.

When it finally happens, Yibo couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect.

The day of their first table read comes, and Yibo is downright giddy, nearly vibrating with nervous energy as he makes his way to the meeting room. He’s running late, having come straight from the plane due to tight scheduling with his other engagements, and everyone else is already there and waiting when he arrives. Immediately, he spots Xiao Zhan across the room, as if a spotlight shines on him and blurs everyone else out. He’s chatting with a woman, and hasn’t noticed Yibo’s entrance.

The desire to bolt across the room to Xiao Zhan is overpowering, but Yibo resists. Regardless of what’s going on in his personal life, he is a consummate professional, and he has responsibilities that can’t be ignored. Besides, there will be plenty of time and more than enough opportunities for them to talk. And it’s not like he could very well confront Xiao Zhan with his soul mark just minutes before this major project officially begins. He’s suddenly glad he’s wearing a dark, long sleeve shirt, which will conceal his mark from sight.

Yibo tears his eyes away from Xiao Zhan and seeks out the director and producer to greet them. As soon as they realize he’s arrived, everyone is quickly called to sit at their designated spots at the large conference tables, arranged in a large circle. Yibo slips into his seat next to Xiao Zhan, giving him a small smile and a bow in greeting.

Xiao Zhan’s returning grin is wide and luminous. “Hello! Nice to see you again,” he says, holding out a hand for Yibo to shake. 

The short sleeves of Xiao Zhan’s black t-shirt have left his arms exposed, and as he reaches to take the older man’s right hand, he sees it — a small, black horizontal line just a few centimeters below the bend of Xiao Zhan’s elbow. The first character in Yibo’s given name.

His heart nearly bursts from his chest, but he breathes through it, reminding himself to be patient.

“You too,” Yibo murmurs. His fingers tingle slightly when their palms connect, and he notices how Xiao Zhan’s hand feels small and delicate in his own. He’d forgotten how electrifying the older man’s gaze is, and Yibo gets caught in the rich brown pools, unable to look away.

“I haven’t had a chance to message in a while,” Xiao Zhan says, he looks down then seems to remember he’s still holding Yibo’s hand and carefully pulls it away. “How are you?”

“Good, good,” Yibo answers. He’s saved from any further small talk as the director calls for quiet.

Any further worries about his soul mark are pushed from his mind as Yibo focuses on the task at hand, embracing the role of a man who is the soulmate to Xiao Zhan’s character.

He wonders at the irony of fate and what the producer who hired them will think if she really  _ did  _ unknowingly cast soulmates to play the parts. He has to admit, it would make one hell of a story and a sensational selling point for the drama when it’s released.

一 战 一 战 一 战 一 战

With so many actors and staff crowding around the tables, it had gotten warm in the conference room they were working in. As the group breaks for lunch, Xiao Zhan watches Yibo pull off his large sweatshirt, leaving him in the cooler alternative of a plain white tee.

The exposed skin of his arms seems to glow, and Xiao Zhan’s eyes can’t help but search for a hint of a black mark. Unfortunately, the angle and the way he’s standing make it impossible to see much. Xiao Zhan will have to get a closer look if he wants to know for sure.

His opportunity comes quickly, when Yibo sits to eat alone and the producer all but forces Xiao Zhan to join him.

“You need to get to know each other,” she says in an encouraging tone. “I’ve heard he’s a quiet one, so you’ll need to be the one to make an effort to build the chemistry we’ll want to see on-screen.”

Xiao Zhan grabs something small to eat, hoping it will help settle the nervous fluttering in his stomach. Projecting an aura of confidence he doesn’t feel, he glides over into Yibo’s space.

“Can I sit?” he asks with a soft smile when Yibo looks up in surprise. At the nod of agreement, Xiao Zhan slips into the chair across from him.

They stare at each other in silence for a beat before Yibo looks at Xiao Zhan’s bowl and asks, “Is that all you’re going to have to eat?”

Xiao Zhan looks down at his soup. “Yeah… Period costumes aren’t very forgiving, you know? I’ve got to watch my diet.”

“Doesn’t mean you’ve got to starve yourself,” Yibo argues with a slight frown pulling at his plush lips. His eyes slide downward in what Xiao Zhan tells himself is  _ not _ a suggestive manner. “Besides, you look good already.”

A nervous giggle that Xiao Zhan can’t seem to stop escapes, and as he squeaks out an embarrassed thanks, Yibo smiles.

“This is going to be fun, right?” Yibo says, leaning onto the table with his elbows. “Since we already know each other a little bit.”

“Yeah, it should be,” Xiao Zhan agrees. It’s surprising how relaxed he is with the younger man already, considering it’s only the second time they’ve met in person. But Yibo’s straightforward manner makes him feel like it isn’t necessary to put on a polite facade. “I love the guys in my group, but it will be nice to do a project without them for once.”

Yibo hums in agreement, and Xiao Zhan can’t help but slide his eyes away from the man’s heavy gaze. He’s afraid if he looks too long, he won’t want to look away.

A stroke of black catches his vision from the corner of his eye, pulling his attention to Yibo’s arm where his soul mark is half hidden from view.

“You’ve met your soulmate already?” Xiao Zhan asks. Disappointment rolls through him like a wave. Yibo is young, but it’s not unexpected. Many people meet their match early in life — sometimes even in childhood.

“Yeah,” Yibo answers. His voice sounds strange, almost wobbling with nerves when he adds, “He came on my show. A year ago.”

“He?” Xiao Zhan glances up to look at Yibo in surprise, but the younger man doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead, they remain fixed on his own arm, which turns to give Xiao Zhan a full view of the character printed bold and stark on Yibo’s pale skin.

It’s the same as the one in his own name.

Transfixed, Xiao Zhan reaches out to touch it unthinkingly, and as his finger makes gentle contact with the mark, it shimmers in a rainbow of colors. They both gasp in shock, and he quickly pulls his hand away. Yibo’s soul mark returns back to the matte black from before.

“Wow,” Yibo says, looking at him with wide eyes. “Is it supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Xiao Zhan answers, his voice just above a whisper. His heart is racing like he’s just run five miles at top speed, and he can almost feel the adrenaline surging through his veins. “My mom showed me once how hers turns red when my dad touches it.”

“Let me see yours,” Yibo suggests.

Not giving Xiao Zhan a chance to pull away, he grips the man’s wrist tightly in one hand, then runs the pad of a large index finger over the  _ yi _ on his arm. The sensation shoots a tingle straight up Xiao Zhan’s arm and down his spine, as a ripple of various colors flows across the small mark. He can’t help but shiver a little from the pleasurable sensation.

“When did you get your mark?” Yibo asks. His smile glitters with hidden mirth, as if he already knows the answer but half of the excitement is in the reveal.

“ ‘97,” Xiao Zhan says, refusing to keep him in suspense. “August.”

Yibo’s face breaks open like the sun, his smile lit from within, nearly too beautiful for Xiao Zhan to even look at.

But he can’t look away.

It’s his soulmate.

His  _ soulmate. _ The shock of it is still making his head spin. His hand trails down to grip Yibo’s, holding it firm. It’s an anchor, keeping him from floating away in the lightheaded bliss of happiness that’s overwhelming his senses. It feels like something inside of him has shifted and locked into place.

Yibo’s wide eyes look at him with wonder, as if Xiao Zhan holds all the secrets to the universe. “I  _ knew _ it was you.”

Xiao Zhan smiles at him, feeling as if his joy must be leaking out of every pore in his body. “I hoped it was you.”

Yibo’s face, impossibly, glows even more and his hand tightens around Xiao Zhan’s. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks.

“Why didn’t you?” Xiao Zhan counters, but there’s no heat in it. It doesn’t matter, not now that they’ve found each other again.

“I didn’t know how to ask,” Yibo admits. He looks away, his ears reddening slightly with embarrassment. “How the hell do you bring that up in a WeChat conversation?”

A loud laugh bursts from Xiao Zhan, and the echo of it makes him look up. Their surroundings, a white haze of noise just moments before, comes crashing back and floods his senses. A few of the other actors are staring at them curiously. Xuan Lu just a few tables over has her mouth hidden by her hand, but Xiao Zhan can guess from the squint of her eyes there’s a girlish grin hiding behind it.

“I guess playing soulmates is going to be pretty easy for us, huh?” Yibo says, his lips pulling into a wicked grin.

The urge to kiss it off his face is overpowering, but Xiao Zhan looks around at their not-so-subtle audience and tamps it down.  _ Not the time or the place, _ he thinks.

They’ve got a whole summer together, and if the magical way this project was beginning was any indication, it was going to be amazing.

Just like the rest of their lives together.

**Author's Note:**

> I would LOVE to know what you think! Comments and kudos give me life -- and keep me writing! :D
> 
> You can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bjyxobsessed) regularly gushing about these two boys


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